Aspects Of Death: La Historia De La Espada
by Rocci
Summary: Each Espada represents a certain aspect of death. Rage, Greed, Insanity, Intoxication, Destruction, Despair, Emptiness, Sacrifice, Time and Loneliness. Their history revealed, their lives before becoming hollows. The world of the Espada.
1. Rage

**Chapter 1: Rage**

"_Rage is my strength! So go ahead and piss me off, it'll make your deaths all the more painful!"_

_-Yammy Riyalgo _

_

* * *

_

"Hey punk if you know what's good you'd back the hell down now." A massive man roared holding a very disgruntled teenager before throwing him roughly back on the blackened street. The other hoodlums stared at him, and then pulled out an array of knives and switches, clashing them together threateningly. "Don't get so cocky asswipe! You won't be so tough when its four on one." One said, smiling a devilish grin and show**i**ng two missing teeth. The engorged man, wearing nothing but a pair of thick slacks turned and smiled widely at them.

"Oh ho! You know I like attitudes like that. I like that condescending look on your face. Do you know why I like that look on your stupid faces? Cause when I beat the ever loving shit out ya'll, it's nice watching it get wiped off." Still smirking as broadly as he can, his words were enough to send one of the punks into a blind fit. "SEE HOW COCKY YOU ARE AFTER THIS!" He roared, rushing at him and attempting to stab the buff man in the chest. An action that was, almost unsurprisingly due to the vast difference in size and strength, diverted. The knife was gripped in the massive hand before 100% muscles overshadowed the boy.

"Eh, what's this weak shit?" He mumbled before snapping the blade right off the handle. Looking at the knife and then at his broken hilt. "Ummm, let's talk about this…"

*BAM!* Feeling his nose breaking under the giant person's fist, the boy collapsed into a heap unconscious. "Well that's one punk ass down, so how about the rest of you?" He said, turning to the other hoodlums who held their ground though sweat did drip from their faces. Another one, scrawny with an elongated face sneered. "So, you managed to do that, big ass whoop man! Come on boys let's take his ass down!" Cheering along with their leader, they charged at the man.

*BAM!*

*SLAM!*

*BOOM!*

And fell down upon the streets, bodies broken and left at the man's mercy. The leader, crying from the pain of his broken arm looked up to see their adversary glaring at them, a broad smirk upon his face. "Ain't gonna get up now are you? Don't even try I'll just knock the shit out of you again anyways."

"D-Damn, who are you?" He muttered.

If possible, his grin grew even wider. Flexing his muscles he roared.

"_YAMMY RIYALGO! "_ His voice echoed loudly throughout the star lit city, flexing his fists and cracking his knuckles.

"I suggest you don't forget it and make sure you don't ever let me see you hear again! Got it punk ass?"

Nodding feverishly, the leader and the rest of his cronies desperately picked themselves up and ran off.

* * *

Widely known as the world's strongest man, if Yammy's drastic size didn't scare off people, his rather off putting appearance certainly would. Ignoring his status of being over 2 meters tall and weighing over 185 kilograms (all muscles too), his head was strangely shaped. He was bald at the top, and his scalp was lined with strange ridges. It was a physical trait that unfortunately got him picked on as a child. It was also the reason he decided to become what he was, stronger and more powerful. He had a long trail of hair on his neck that trailed down his back in a short ponytail as well as drastic sideburns.

However, Yammy's most widely acclaimed ability or rather his most off putting, was his own attitude. In short, Yammy Riyalgo would often and for almost no apparent reason, go into blind fits of madness. It first started as a child, in the brutal days of being bullied.

"Freak!" The word repeat by the children while little Yammy, holding his hands over his head scowled at them. He wasn't strong and he wasn't smart, he wasn't even average. He was just ugly and misfortune, stuck in this place. One kid came, no idea who, and roughly pushed against the ground and then quickly scampered away as if his physique was contagious.

"My god, look at yourself Yammy! I'm surprise mirrors don't break when you look at yourself!"

"Don't stare at him for too long, you might turn just as ugly!"

At this point the entire hallway roared with laughter to the point where it literally echoed in Yammy's ears. Fist shaking, eyes widening, the young boy took his attention to the ringleader of the group. "Screw you!" He roared, which only got another roar of laughter from the boy and the group of children. He wasn't strong, or large or anything of that sort.

"Ehhh? Do something about it asshat!"

Hurt and angry, Yammy threw out a fist that easily avoided. "Oh!" The boy said mockingly holding his arms out cockily. "Got some spunk there little man, come on!" Suddenly the entire place was filled with a rousing chorus of "Fight! Fight! Fight!" Though honestly it was just another way of saying "Kick his ugly ass!"

"Shut up!" Yammy yelled again, throwing a random blow that was not only dodged but was thrown so haphazardly Yammy lost his balance and fell face first on the floor. "Hey asshat, at least try and fight me? I feel like I'm fighting a retarded monkey!" The hooligan yelled before socking poor Yammy straight across the cheek. The blow sent the boy staggering, grasping the wall and feeling his broken nose. Just as he turned around another punch nailed him straight in the right eye, blackening it.

"Ugly!"

"Asshat!"

"You know Yammy…" The child said bringing back his fist again. "I may beat your ass so badly you won't turn so ugly…or not!"

*BAM!*

Unexpected, Yammy's fist nailed the boy straight across the face and sent him sprawling out on the floor. Roaring like a feral animal and both looking and acting like one, Yammy lunged on the boy and began to assault him mercilessly. "SHUT UP! SHUT UP! SHUT UP!" With each word he clawed and gave his assailant a brutal storm of clouts while the boy desperately tried to push him off.

"Get off me asshat!"

The children at first surprised sudden stormed into a chorus of "Yammy! Yammy! Yammy!" Their chant of his name to continue pummeling his foe wasn't what made Yammy continue. It was the burning fury that coursed through his mind and veins. His eyes were crazed and even as he was being pulled back by one of the teachers, he continued to squirm and get back at the boy.

"Enough of this! Enough I say!" The elder man roared, holding Yammy back with as much strength as he could muster. The boy, Vemos Kiraki sported a face best described as a war victim. Both eyes were blacked out, the left one actually bleeding profusely. His bottom lip quivered and when he saw Yammy giving him a deadly look, he began scooting back as if hearing the words "This isn't over!"

However, Riyalgo's predicament was simply put as a natural occurrence. After seeing and discussing the situation, it was widely agreed that Yammy had merely acted in the appropriate situation. They didn't realize that Yammy's anger was on a much deeper and personal level. They instead saw a child who in an hour of desperation had lashed out. In short, the fight or flight response had kicked in. When fleeing would not work, Yammy was forced to into the fight response. What they didn't know, nor did Yammy himself, was that he had hurt Vemos on a far deeper level. 2 weeks later Vemos came down with a strange disease where his body seemed to be growing weaker and weaker. The doctors were unable to figure out this disease and within a month's time, Vemos died.

Though nobody knew why and Yammy certainly wouldn't have been able to explain it, he had broken more than just his face. He had broken a fine distinction between the lines of natural energy and reistu. If one had taken the patience to really look into it, they would've noticed something surprising. Even if he had gotten the jump on Vemos, there was no way Yammy could've have physically done the amount of damage he had done to the boy. Yammy Riyalgo was not a strong boy; he was weak and rather obese, constantly eating. Yet he had not only held Vemos back, whom in turn should have been able to hold Yammy back, but had beaten him senseless.

Why?

Unknown to anyone, Yammy had, unintentionally been sucking in the natural reistu around Vemos' body. As his anger grew, the more he was able to suck in until he was producing strength far greater than what he should naturally have been able to produce.

After the incident, Yammy Riyalgo began to be taken serious either as a threat or as a strong man of the school. Only a fool would even dare to make fun of him now and Yammy began to take this in stride. Seeing his body as weak, he began working out unknowingly increasing his already powerful strength to monstrous levels. It was in the later years he began to have an attitude problem with his power, constantly challenging people and always winning any fights he came in.

And whenever he fought someone, he was always angry.

* * *

Years pass, Yammy through intense exercise grew into the massive behemoth he was today. Though his intelligence was, in retrospect, lacking in some regard, his power was something truly to be had. Thus, he was the perfect candidate for such a job as a hired bodyguard.

"Hey man! Just let us in alright?" The thin lad said, looking at his buddies as they groaned. Yammy merely smirked and cracked his knuckles. "Got some proper invitation boy?" Groaning the boy flipped Yammy off and walked away. A small vein appeared on Riyalgo's forehead but his attention was soon turned to some trouble in the club.

"Well what kind of trouble are we having here?" He yelled, coming up to a fight between two drunks. "You shtay out of this hear!" One of them roared, pointing an accusatory finger at him.

"Shut yer trap drunkass!" The other one yelled, swaying uncomfortably and clutching the chair for support.

"You all need to get out, now! You're causing too much trouble here." Yammy answered and was given a reply back in the form of a fist to the face. It didn't even budge him, and the drunk man looked stupidly at him before blacking out from the backhand given to him by Riyalgo. "God you are so weak! How about you?" He challenged to the other drunk, flexing his muscles threateningly.

Swaying, the drunk looked from his the fallen man to Yammy before putting his fists and being clouted across the face by a single blow. "Weak! You are all so weak!"

It was a job that Yammy Riyalgo was good at.

Perhaps…

Too good.

* * *

_**(STRONGEST IN THE TOWN)**_

_**(POWER AND STRENGTH)**_

_**(HOW STRONG ARE YOU?)**_

_**(Prove your strength at the Shuruo's Fighting Contest!)**_

A contest of pure unrelenting strength was just what the incredible Yammy needed to truly prove his power. It was a contest, a tournament of nothing but physical prowess. He would've been a fool not to sign up for it. While the tournament was, in most sense, unknown, it suddenly shot off in popularity knowing who was in it.

"You mean Riyalgo? The Yammy Riyalgo?" One bystander stand, looking at the flyer.

"That's right! I feel sorry for whatever sap has to go up against him! He's like the strongest motherfucker out there!" Another one said, wiping a bead of sweat off his face.

"Dude! The guy could sneeze and a freaking hurricane would come out!"

When the tournament finally came around, there was one named that would ring out most clearly from the crowd.

"RIYALGO! RIYALGO! RIYALGO!" Grinning broadly, Yammy raised his fist into the air and roared as loud as he could. What idiot could possibly win against his might! He was Yammy Riyalgo the strongest among strongest and today he was going to prove it. It felt almost like an insult to him when his challengers came out, while strong in a normal sense, they appeared like helpless insects next to Yammy's insane build.

"KNOCKOUT! WINNER RIYALGO!"

"ANOTHER WIN FOR RIYAGLO!"

"WHAT A BLOW, I DON'T THINK YAMMY EVEN FELT IT!"

"DAMN, WHAT A BEAST!"

"YAMMY! YAMMY! YAMMY!"

"WINNER…RIYALGO!"

"THIS IS INCREDIBLE! NONE OF HIS BLOWS ARE EVEN EFFECTING YAMMY!"

"KNOCKOUT! VICTOR, RIYALGO!"

And then the final came and for the first time Yammy came across a man who was just as large, just as tall and in the end just as powerful as Yammy himself. In an almost self-mockery of his own name, his opponent was Rammy Torosu. He was a person who sported a thick beard and sour look upon his face

*BAM!*

The first blow sent Yammy staggering before countering with his own attack.

*POW!*

Rammy reared back, blood spurting form his face.

*CLASH!*

Yammy held his gut, before glaring dagger at Rammy. "THAT WAS NOTHING! PUNK!" He roared attacking again. For the moment, the crowd began to cheer at this equal fight but as time went on, Yammy began to lose his footing.

"COME ON BASTARD!" He roared, sending a blow so hard it nearly knocked Rammy straight out of the ring. "S-strong? How is he…so strong?" Rammy thought but he kept up and even surpassed the pressure that Yammy was giving him, despite the strange sense he felt, as if his body was grown weaker by the minute, Rammy kept up the pressure.

"This guy is…so strong…" he though in grudging respect.

Yammy himself was getting more and more furious. There was no way he could possibly lose to him.

"I…

I am…

I AM YAMMY RIYALGO!"

*BAM!*

And the blow hit him across his cheek, blinding him with white light before Yammy collapsed out of the ring and onto his back.

"WINNER…AND NEW CHAMPION…RAMMY TOROSOU!" The announcer roared, a cheer erupting from the crowd. Rammy himself collapsed to his knee, looking down at the fallen Yammy. "You…are indeed…very powerful. It was an honor to fight against you." He panted, his hand being raised for the entire crowd to see. But Yammy didn't feel any sort of respect; instead he felt absolute fury for Rammy.

"I…" He thought angrily, watching his victory being stolen from him.

"I am…" Glaring as Rammy walked away with the crowd following him.

"I am…the absolute strongest! You hear me you weak piece of shit!"

"I AM YAMMY RIYALGO!" Without warning Yammy suddenly lunged at Rammy, roaring and cursing at him at the top of his lungs. A group of guards came out, trying to hold him back and felt as if all the energy in their body was being taken straight from their body. It took a total of 10 well-built men to finally take Yammy outside and leave him in the night street.

* * *

"I…did…not…lose." He said through anger filled breaths. "I never lose! I am the strongest in the world, I am the best!"

"I…DID…NOT…LOSE!"

*CRASH!*

His breath taken out of him, Yammy felt his world lunge forward before his legs snapped from underneath the car and he slid belly down on the street. "GAAAAAAAAAAGH! WHAT THE HELL!" He roared, the pain in his broken legs searing. Hearing multiple noises, he finally heard a familiar voice.

"Long time no see bastard!" It was the voice of the hoodlum leader that he beaten before. A swift kick in his broken leg made him wince. "How do you like it huh! Getting beat on the ground! Come on then shithead!"

Yammy pushed himself on his back but when he tried to get up the pain his legs kept him from doing so.

"YOU BASTARD! YOU WEAK BASTARD!" Yammy roared, fury rushing through his veins.

"BASTARDS! I AM YAMMY RIYALGO! WHY DON'T YOU COME AND FIGHT ME LIKE A REAL MAN!"

The hoodlum still smirking bent down and pulled something out of his jacket. It was a small silver pistol and he put it to Yammy's head. Instead of fear, and even more intense rage spilled from his body. "YOU BASTARD! YOU BASTARD! I'LL NEVER FORGIVE YOU FOR THIS!"

"God you are a loud one…"

"I AM THE STRO-!"

*BANG!*

* * *

"Ugh…Wh-where am I?" Yammy though picking himself up from the street. "Wait a minute...my legs!" He roared, looking at his own two feet and seeing that they were completely fine. "I…must have been dreaming. Tsk, stupid dreams, weak." He mumbled.

He then saw something that made his blood chill.

"What the hell?" He said, looking at his own fallen body on the street, blood still soaking the cement from the bullet wound in his forehead. Suddenly feeling something on his chest, Yammy looked down to see a large chain attacked to his chest, trailing down at his feet. "What is this shit?" He mumbled picking the chain up and giving it a small pull. A short spasm of pain spread throughout his body and he instantly dropped the chain. "OW! THE HELL?" He roared.

Was he…dead?

Could he, Yammy Riyalgo, strongest man in the world, be dead?

"That bastard…shot me." He whispered, almost mortified, looking at his own body. "THAT BASTARD SHOT ME! I'LL FRIGGIN KILL HIM!" He roared, running throughout the city in search of his killer. What he didn't know, was that the chain on his body was slowly disintegrating and he was becoming larger and more grotesque. Seeing him, snickering with his friends Yammy screamed in rage and ran at him, throwing a powerful fist at his adversary.

And seeing his own attack pass through the boy's head like a ghost.

"WHAT THE FUCK!" He roared, trying to punch him again, as for the boy, he wasn't even paying attention or rather he didn't even know Yammy was there. "Son of a bitch! I'll kill you! I'll kill you!" But even as he attacked, absolutely nothing happened.

"No friggin' way?" Yammy whispered.

"FIGHT ME YOU BASTARD!" He roared, screaming as clutching his chest as the chain began to wither away. While his chain of soul fell apart, his assailant started to walk away. "DON'T WALK AWAY YOU COWARD!" He screamed, attempting another useless punch.

And he watched, falling to his knees and the great and all powerful Yammy Riyalgo watched as he was deemed worthless.

"I am Yammy Riyalgo…

Strongest among strongest…

…I am Yammy Riyalgo…

…The most powerful man in the world…

I

Am

The

Strongest

Man

In

The

World!"

And in his rage, the final piece of the chain snapped right off.

**"_!"_**

Before becoming a true monster and his reistu scattering within the sudden garganta, traveling to the world of Hueco Mundo.

The world of…

The Hollows.

* * *

The very first thing that Yammy noticed was that everything seemed oddly small. Groaning he looked around to see not a city, but a world of sand and short crystalline trees. Another loud groan, bordering on a roar, and Yammy picked himself up.

"I feel…strange." He thought, rubbing his head and shocking himself when he felt something strange on top. It felt, surprisingly like bone but with no way to check it out he instead decided to walk around and see where he was.

It didn't take him that many steps to realize something was weird.

"Huh? What the…?" He mumbled looking around and gaining another, if not the most completely shocking part of his entire life. He noticed a multitude of legs trailing from his waist ending in a long bone line tail with a club. At first Yammy just thought he was having another terrible dream but when he didn't wake up, his shock was replaced by something all too well known for him.

Rage.

"_**!"**_

Exploding in vindictive indignation, the entire world around Riyalgo erupted in a brilliant flash of red light. When the dust cleared, Yammy was standing in a crater, his muscles throbbing and his eyes wide with so much hatred it made him look derange. He was a monster, a freak of nature in every possible way. He also so incredibly pissed off he wanted to destroy every single thing that came his way.

He was also…very hungry.

Between spitting at his fate and finding something to eat, he decided to go through the latter.

* * *

The first thing he came across was a very strange creature rushing across the sanding dunes. It was humanoid in shape but also demonic looking, as if made out of bones much like Yammy himself. The monster felt the undying need to eat this creature. The small hollow turning around quickly whimpered when he saw Yammy. Though the beast wouldn't know it yet, the small hollow was not only afraid because Yammy was here and clearly stronger. He was obviously the largest hollow that had ever existed. He made the Menos Grande look like ants compare to him.

"Well…little guy, I guess it ends here for you." He said, half wanting to eat him, and in his rage, half wanting to break his boney little spine. As his hand reached out, the hollow shot out a beam of red light that struck Yammy straight across his face. "Orah!" Roaring mostly from annoyance, the beat opened its mouth and almost naturally shot off the same colored beam but far more powerful. Shocked crossed Yammy's features as he saw the creature blown to bits.

"Huh?"

He had no idea what he had done but now not only did it feel natural, it fell all too powerful.

"I am…Yammy Riyalgo. I am the strongest among strongest."

* * *

"Your majesty something is happening in the west Hueco Mundo." A small hollow said urgently coming up to the first step where the King of Hueco Mundo sat, the shadow of the bell of death hanging over his head.

"Eh? What is it?" Barragan mumbled in his gravelly voice, his bony fingers resting on his bony chin as if bored.

"There have been reports of some massive hollow, larger than anything before."

"You mean a Menos?" The King said unconcerned.

"No! Even larger but it's not like any Menos. It's huge and…vastly powerful. Perhaps even more powerful than…" The hollow stopped as the King glared at him, a sense of foreboding passing into the hollow as if his body was slowly being withered away. "M-my apologies Barragan-sama, I spoke out of line. I will not do so again!" He said with a croak going into a quick bow as if hoping that would calm the King's mood. Luckily for him, "Father Time" decided to spare his wretched life.

"So what does it matter right? Whoever it is obviously can't compare to me. After all I am the King of Hueco Mundo.

I…am the god of the Hueco Mundo.

But if it bothers you so much, why don't we send someone to check up on him." Lifting a hand, Barragan gave an audible snap of his fingers and said in an even more audible voice…

"_Shiffer!"_

Almost instantly a figure appeared at random in front of Barragan's throne, surprising many of the hollows around by his instant appearance. Small, bat winged and emotionless, Ulquiorra Shiffer looked up at Barragan with an expression bordering on plain uncaring boredom. "You need my assistance?" He asked plainly.

Ulquiorra Shiffer was a hollow of rather unique being in Las Noches. Next to King Barragan himself, he was the only Vasto Lorde in Las Noches. Therefore in a sense, he held a place as a second in command in Las Noches. Although if his place meant anything important, it obviously didn't mean much to Ulquiorra. He was just another hollow in Hueco Mundo, a world of emptiness.

"Yes. You already know what's going on. Check up on this…new guy."

Nodding once, Shiffer's wings spread and in a flash of sonido vanished again.

* * *

"Damn! Still hungry!" Yammy uttered, chewing up what he could only guess was the 100th hollow. No matter how much he ate, he always felt more and more hungry. Though every time he ate, he did feel a little bit stronger. He had finally come to accept his world and his life, though doing so always made him clench his fist in anger. He was a monster, a hollow, as he soon learned.

But…

If that was the case he would be the strongest hollow ever, hell he could already tell he was getting some attention. The massive hollow that roamed the dunes of Hueco Mundo. Every so often a garganta would appear, a rare sight and he would enter one and appear in the world of the living. Human souls tasted so much better than hollow and whenever one of these extremely rare gargantas would open, he would feast to his content.

One day as he feasted upon the remains of a hollow, he became aware of a small creature following him. Expecting another meal, instead he saw, much to his distaste a small hollow creature, much like a dog following him. The meal would hardly qualify as a snack and so Yammy simply shooed it away. Much to his chagrin, the dog continue to follow him and even after a direct threat of blowing its ass off with a cero proved useless, Yammy decided to let the dog follow him. After all, it wasn't like there was any threat that the thing could do.

Meanwhile far away, a certain hollow bat appeared on the dunes, sensing out reistu of any particular powerful hollow. A few minutes later he did come across something powerful.

Powerful would have been an understatement, it was massive and it was the reistu of a hollow either. It was the reistu if he dare say it, of a Shinigami. However he had no idea, and in a sense any care of why a Shinigami was in the land of the hollows. Still it did quirk his attention and in any case it was an issue that had to be dealt with.

* * *

As for Riyalgo, he continued to roam the dunes, and any hollow that stood in his way was surely crushed under his strength. Then one day throughout the long years of living in the wastelands, he finally got to meet Ulquiorra.

"Who are you?" Yammy mumbled, looking down at Ulquiorra from the ground. He looked so puny from his sights. "You look different from the other hollows." Yammy grumbled looking closely at Shiffer. Indeed Ulqiuorra looked if anything completely human, if one ignored the hole in his chest and strange bone-like helmet on the side of his head that trailed down his neck. Gazing up at him with his emotionless eyes, Ulquiorra passed no surprise or wonder upon seeing the massive hollow.

"Ulquiorra…" He replied plainly. "Ulquiorra Shiffer. I am an Arrancar, as well as the Quatro Espada of Aizen Sosuke's army."

Snorting, Yammy turned his head. "Who the hell is this Aizen fellow?"

"He is the man who wants to see you." Ulquiorra replied and, almost sensing that feeling in Yammy's mind, said. "He may offer you more power." At once Yammy's interest was on the high. "More power you say?" He answered.

"Well…why don't you show me, otherwise I'll kill you too."

Shiffer took the threat as a grain of salt and walked away, Yammy following him, the loud booms of his footsteps heard miles away. Yammy soon came across the massive fortress of Las Noches, its dome towering above en his gigantic form. "Bark!" He gave annoyed look at the ground, he nearly forgot that annoying little dog was still following him.

Of course Yammy had no way to actually get inside, due to his bulk. Instead a single person came out while Ulquiorra went into a bow.

"Excellent work Shiffer, you may go back." The man said silkily, smiling at Yammy. As for the beast, he wasn't sure whether he wanted to laugh or just crush the puny man. Well, maybe he wanted to do both of them. "Hello Hollow, I am Aizen Sosuke." The man said simply, his voice calm and yet expressive. In point, it was the kind of calm voice that pissed Yammy off. He might've attacked (And had his life ended then and there) had Aizen not said something else.

"You have an extremely powerful Reistu, Espada-level." Aizen remarked. "It would be nice, to have you part of the Espada."

"Eh, and what the hell are the…Espada?" Yammy said rudely. Aizen continue to smile, raising his hand as if in simple conversation. "I am attempting to gather the 10 most powerful hollow as my personal army. Right now, we currently have 5 Espada.

Primera Espada, Barragan Luisbarn, who, quite ironically happened to be the King of Hueco Mundo.

Espada Dos, Tia Haribel.

Espada Tres, Neliel Tu Odvervanshanks

Espada Quatro, Ulquiorra Shiffer, whom you met just recently.

Lastly, Espada Cinco, Aaroneiro Arrurrie." These are the current Espadas; most of them have recently joined me. In fact Aaroneiro was the first Espada in my army. "I dare say you would be good as the 6th Espada.

"Huh? Just 6th? You calling me weak?" Yammy retorted angrily.

"Nothing like that, I just feel like you are the least strongest."

"SAY THAT AGAIN!" Yammy roared, feeling offended. Aizen merely smiled and with a quick brush of his reistu, pushed Yammy down, choking him with his own powerful spiritual energy. "I think it's a pleasant choice, to be part of the greatest army in Hueco Mundo."

Completely enraged, Yammy opened his mouth the red light filling his maw. As for Aizen, he merely lifted a hand and chanted.

"Hado #90: Kurohitsugi."

Black lines rose around Yammy entrapping in a box of blackness before the darkness overwhelmed him.

The next moment, he was on the ground, bleed profusely and starring daggers at Aizen who calmly put his hand back down. "Y-you…b-bastard." He growled.

"It's up to you…hollow." Aizen answered.

Unable to win, Yammy gave in.

"Good." Aizen said with a rather dark smile. Reaching into his pocket he pulled out a strange orb. "Behold the Hogyoku."

And in the next moment, Yammy Riyalgo became an Arrancar.

* * *

Author's Notes: First chapter done. A little history on the 10th/0 espada Yammy Riyalgo. The rest of the chapters will be like this, a little history on each member of the Espada, what their lives were like as humans, how they became hollows and how they became part of Aizen's army.

Next Espada: Greed, Aaroneiro Arrurrie.

Read, Review and hopefully enjoy.


	2. Greed

**Chapter 2: Greed**

"_If it's about our faces then just shut it. We got sick of people talking about them, a long time ago."_

_-Aaroneiro Arurerrie_

_

* * *

_

Folding his hands in a business-like fashion, Mr. Arurerrie sat at the high business end of the long table, with the group of businessmen, all dressed up in elaborate black or white suits. Mr. Arurerrie was a thin man, in his late 20s, a thin patch of cropped golden hair set upon his head. He had a deep pair of green eyes that starred in a point of not being respectable but in the very back very wanting. He had eyes that sought out things and grasped for them. Right now he was currently in a conference to discuss the business negotiations involving his work.

"And what do you, Mr. Korokese expect us to do in the light of this transaction? This is an important part for our business, I do not want it getting screwed over." His voice was dark and unnaturally unsettling. But it was the kind of voice they had come to expect and even respect from the renowned Aaro Arurerrie.

"That won't be a problem, I've already spoken to the head director from Cistories, all should be well." The high pitched voice came from the other end of the table. Hands folded just like Aaro, Neiro's voice was off putting as well. He was around the same size as Aaro, though his hair was a deep shade of black. He along with his brother Aaro had started and ran their business for 8 years now and they intended to keep making money.

"I've already had contact with the director and spoke to him directly about the deal. Not to mention I gave the message on the transaction two days ago." Neiro answered calmly.

"True." Aaro muttered, thinking deeply. "In such a case all seems to be working out. Once this final transaction is complete, our influx value should rise a total of…what was it?" He said, looking at one of his employees, a lanky fellow with thin brown hair. "An increase of 29.5% Mr. Arurerrie." The man replied. Aaro smiled just a tiny bit before continuing on.

"Excellent. If all things go well, and they will, you all can expect a hefty pay raise."

If there was one thing that defined the Arurerrie brothers, it was their ability to run a successful business. Raised as upstart citizens, they paid no expenses in getting wealth. In fact they were the wealthiest people in their home city. Not to mention that in a time of depression, to have as much money as they did was something to be proud of.

First born Aaro Arurerrie grew up hardly even knowing what the word poverty meant. His younger brother, Neiro also held the same values as his brother. The richer they were, the better their lives would be. While wanting money was something any person would think of, their idea stemmed beyond mere cash. Through the calm exteriors that they put among their business faces, hands folded in front of them…

…They were greedy.

Money was top priority but it didn't just stop there.

Power!

Position!

Respect!

* * *

Their father had started the family business and at his time of death, had his son inherit his fortune. Earning the first check, it seemed to bury into their minds. Perhaps because of the current depression that they lived in, they didn't want to be in a world of poverty. Poverty was for those who didn't have power, or respect or position. They wanted it all and more, and poverty meant losing it. They did not lose. Ever! It just continued on and on, the more they made, the more they wanted.

They also had a profound and brotherly love for each other. They looked for each other for support, comfort. Their best friend was each other and in turn they trusted each other. While Aaro acted as the manager and director for their business, Neiro provided the statistical and analytical data from the back. While they both enjoyed the position of power, Neiro often enjoyed working from the side. He had the same position as his brother in retrospect, but without all the hassle of being in front of everyone and seeing their stupid expressions. It was something his brother had been sure to make note of during their very first conference.

"This is why I stay in the back." Neiro answered in his high pitched voice. "It's less annoying."

"Tsk, I'm sure…" Aaro replied nonchalantly, though believing his brother. "Sometimes I wonder just how much these idiots know about the business world. If they keep this up our rates will drop."

"By 5.6%..." Neiro said, speaking on data direct from his sources. "Who do you think is the main problem around here? Who isn't doing their part of the job?"

Aaro thought for a moment. "I think you give Mr. Irake the talk." He said sternly

"Ah! Mr. Arurerrie, how do you do?" Mr. Irake said polite as Neiro walked into his office, hands folded in front of him. "Mr. Irake, it doesn't please me to say this but…" And he pulled out a slip and placed it on his desk. Mr. Irake looked at it and his small smile vanished, his bottom lip quivering.

"Ex-excuse me sir, but…what is this?"

"Oh Mr. Irake please don't play dumb." Neiro said with a sad shake of his head. "Out of all the people here you have been performing the least…productively. I'm sorry to say but sometimes we just have to make changes and you kind of fit that bill."

Sweating profusely, Mr. Irake tried his best to make a case for himself. "Please sir, we're in depression and I can't afford to lose my job. I've got a wife and two little girls, they need me to provide for them! Please I'll work over time, day and night shift!"

Shaking his head, Neiro clucked his tongue. "You know that won't work, it's over you're…"

"WAIT! Please! I promise I'll do better, I'll increase my productivity please don't do this sir! If I don't have a job my family will die! Please, think of my little girls. We can hardly pay for the rent of our house, I need this job! Please!"

"…Fired." Neiro ended simply. "I'm sorry it gives me no pleasure to do this."

Mr. Irake fell on his desk sobbing harshly. "I'll do anything!" He whined.

"I expect you out of here by this afternoon. Also, remember to place your exit card in the slot. Goodbye."

* * *

But things weren't going as expected. Even the Arurerrie brothers, with their vast wealth began to come under the effects of the depression. They had to put off more and more workers and they found that their once wonderful business was going down the drain. Rate had gone down a staggering 15% and the name of Arurerrie was becoming a name of simplicity. Now as the two brothers stood in their office, a single thought crossed their minds.

How would they earn more?

"If this keeps up, the entire business will be gone." Neiro mumbled, looking outside the window, upon the city as he watched the population go by. "What are those idiot employees doing? This is a business, it needs to be run as such."

His brother nodded in agreement, sitting at his own desk with a pen and piece of paper. "The transaction should've come in at this point, what the hell is taking it so long."

"You've been having a lot of trouble with that Aaro, are you sure you didn't mess up somewhere?" Neiro asked. His brother gave him a long cold look. "Are you suggesting that this is my fault?" He answered back, his voice even lower than normal.

"I'm merely suggesting that somewhere along the lines you might have made a mistake somewhere." The younger brother said, narrowing his eyes. "You are the 'boss' after all, it's your job to make sure this kind crap doesn't happen. Perhaps you're management skills aren't what they used to be." Neiro raised his head as is brother got up from his seat, glaring at his brother.

"You are the head of the statistical data, why did you let it get this far under?" Aaro demanded. Neiro starred at him for a long time before replying, "It was sudden, and I'm busy with other stuff you know."

Sighing deeply, Aaro headed to the door. "I think we should leave and cool down a bit, I'm going to hold a meeting for the other employees and talk to them directly." Aaro said plainly, while Neiro looked back out the window. "This will get fixed eventually, I'm sure of it."

"It better…" Neiro mumbled.

* * *

But things hardly got any better. 3 months passed and the business got weaker and weaker, even worse money was becoming a major issue for the two brothers. They were losing profits at an astounding rate and they had to call off more and more of their workers. It was effecting both of them, their personalities mostly and both Aaro and Neiro began to act irrationally at work.

"WHAT THE HELL ARE YOU DOING!" Aaro roared at one of his workers who flinched at his desk. "Jeesh sir, I'm getting the job done, please I'm not a superhuman." He whimpered. Aaro nearly went and strangled the man until he looked around, seeing the other employees looking at him. "Sorry, I'm not feeling like myself right now." Aaro mumbled. The employees looked at one another, Aaro had been acting like this for a month now and his younger brother was hardly any different. The depression wasn't getting any better, and after another month, another work was called off. It was becoming quite obvious that it having a toll on the two brothers. Whenever they came in, they had bags under their eyes, and they were both dreary and quick to anger.

"I DON'T CARE HOW BAD THE DAMN ECONOMY IS! YOU DON'T GET PAID TO TALK! YOU GET PAID TO WORK!" Aaro roared again at one of his workers who decided, even with the economy the way it was, he wouldn't stand for this treatment and left.

In the end, what was once a prospering business, now became a lackluster show. Then the day came that would destroy them forever.

A short man in a black suit waltzed into their office, holding out some paper work. "What's this?" Neiro grumbled, looking at the papers. The small man gave a short whistle, as if he did on a regular basis and said plainly, "Your business resignation forms. You have thus, for the second time failed to pay the yearly funding that was stated in the contract. I'm sorry to say that we will have to close your business."

Aaro nearly threw a fit.

"The hell are you talking about! You can't close us!"

"I'm afraid I can sir, you see, this is the law. You'll have to head out this afternoon. My deepest apologies."

Greed. Everything, money, power, position, respect. To have everything in their grasp and hold it hungrily. All of that was falling down the drain faster than the water itself and in its place, disbelief. Forced out of their own business, the two brothers stood out on the street, still in their suits. Feeling, for the very first time in their lives, poor. No business meant they could not make any more money, without money, would mean being a lonely little peasant. The world suddenly felt so shallow and unforgiving.

The world felt so…pathetic.

* * *

"What kind of bullshit is this…" Aaro growled walking home while his brother followed behind as if not even wanting to be near his brother. "What the hell went wrong? Everything was going fine until now!" At this point Neiro gave a loud snort, obviously trying to get his brother's attention. "What is it Neiro Arurerrie?" The old brother growled.

"Isn't it obvious why we're in this position? You're lack of management skill clearly had its way with this predicament."

"Oh shut up!" Aaro roared, turning around. "If you hadn't been sitting around like some lazy asshole and had checked up on the data, you'd have realized this sooner! We could've fixed this problem had you had the brains to pay attention!"

"Don't put this in on me, Aaro Arurerrie!" Neiro yelled. The two brothers glared at each other, ferociously starring the other down. "Forget it…" Aaro mumbled. "There's nothing we can do about it now. We've got the proper studies to get another job anyways. We'll be back on the top in no time."

"…Alright then."

* * *

But heading back to the top wasn't going to happen. In fact they fell even further and further apart. They lost their money, their home, their power, respect, position. They lost it all until they only they had was one another and that didn't matter much, when they absolutely hated the other.

Sitting in a dark alley, the rain falling down on their heads, their ruined suits drenched in wetness, dirt and filthy misunderstanding of the world. The two brothers, who had once held it all, now held nothing. Aaro himself was mostly quiet and murderously angry. He hardly gave his brother a glance and in most cases ignored the fact that he was even there. Neiro himself looked over at his brother, staring at him while the water ran down his face.

Greed, it inspires but it also delivers. The deadliest of the seven sins had taken its full effect of the two brothers and in return, it gave them nothing. The rain not only felt cold, it felt as if it was taking more away from them. Misery drenched the brothers, leaving them into a world of nothingness. They were poor, powerless, no position and no respect. They were just another member of the vast depression that beheld the city. In short, they were nothing and would gain nothing.

* * *

The night sky dwindled over the poor city but the rain continued to fall, Neiro rising up from the crate looked up, feeling the raindrops against his face. "This is your fault…" He thought, looking at Aaro asleep against the brick wall. "This is all your fault, Aaro Arurerrie…" Teeth clenched together, he began to walk over to his sleeping brother, pulling from his pocket a small knife.

"All of this…is your fault. Every single bit of this, is your fault." He repeated again and again, teeth grinding against one another before coming up Aaro, knife raised. The older brother, just at the moment opened his eyes and gasped as Neiro lunged at him.

"Gah! What the hell Neiro!" Aaro roared as the knife struck his chest, driving deeply into his body. Neiro, deranged attacked his brother, eyes crazed. "This is your fault Aaro! This is your entire goddamn fault!" Neiro cried out, stabbing him against and again, blood spurting out from his brother's arms, chest, face and neck. Desperate to live, Aaro struggled with his brother's arms, trying to pry the knife away. A specific cut slashed Aaro across the throat, pushing back against the cold street of the alley.

Reaching into his pocket, he pulled out a small pistol and fired three times. The first shot slammed into Neiro's legs, putting him down. "No! No! No! No! It hurts! It hurts! It hurts! It hurts! It hurts!" He screamed, his high pitched voice yelling obscenely in the rain.

The next shot him in the heart, making him spew out blood and falling on his stomach. His eyes, in both anger and strife looked up at his brother who aimed directly at his head, and fired. Neiro, dead, slumped forward bleeding internally while Aaro choked on his own blood.

"W-why…did…this…h-happen?" he gaged, spitting up his own blood upon his face, laying on his back and pressing his hand against his neck. "I-I can't…d-die like…this…" He mumbled, trying to keep conscious but he couldn't even move now. He felt the raindrops come across his face, his eyes dimming greatly and before he died, he could only mutter one more curse.

"Shit…"

Aaro Arurerrie died, drenched in water and blood, sprawled out in an obscene matter. His eyes starring without seeing upon the dank sky that clearly cared nothing about him. The two brothers laid upon their gore, unmoving and unresponsive, killed by their own hate filled greed. To want too much and never taking the time to really look at the problem on a deeper level. The sin had completely destroyed them.

* * *

Waking up from, what he could only describe as sleep, Aaro rose up, remember exactly what had happened and looking at his body. He was surprised to see that there were no wounds on his body but what caught his attention the most was the chain around his body.

"So you're here too."

He spun around, seeing his brother sitting calmly on the crate, the same kind of chain dangling from his chest as well. "Neiro Arurerrie…" Aaro growled, not easily forgetting what had happened earlier…if it had happened. Admitting he quite confused on what was going on right now. "What the hell happened? You attacked me." Aaro questioned.

"And you shot me…" Neiro replied pointing to the side. Shocked, Aaro saw the body of his brother, still sprawled out with the bullet wounds. As if expecting it, Aaro turned where he was and saw his own body, with the wounds he received before. For a moment, Aaro was unsure what to expect from this, however it didn't take him long to realize what exactly was going on. "I'm…dead…" he whispered callously. "Impossible…"

"Yeah…you're dead brother." Neiro answered back harshly. "So am I…" The younger brother while harsh, also seemed kind of disappointed and if possible sad. "Brother…" he said, his voice surprisingly low for himself."

"Huh?" Aaro mumbled looking at him.

"What are we going to do?"

"...I don't know…" He answered back.

Miserable…

So miserable…

"All I know…is that I'm going to kill you!" Aaro roared, not even bothering to think of how his sentence worked out and charged at his brother. Ghost or not, the punch was swift against Neiro's jaw, forcing him backwards. Retaliating, his brother slammed his own fist against his brother's face until at last they continued to brawl out, two ghosts invisible to the world and yet wanting everything. Their chains ripped and tore apart yet they paid no attention to it. Then, all of sudden during the fight both of their chains stuck and wrap along the other.

"We lost everything because of you!" Aaro roared.

"Don't you dare blame me for this!" Neiro screamed.

The chain broke bringing them closer until the last bit broke apart and a white stream blew from the hole in their chest, wrapping around them. Shocked reactions crossed their features as the white stream poured around their body, melting the spiritual flesh from their very bones. They felt sickened, horribly deformed and viciously unwanted. They couldn't even think and before they knew it, they blacked out into a world of the unknown.

* * *

"Wh-What is…this feeling?" The mind thought connected to, whatever the hell it was connected too. It tried to move its arms and found that it didn't have any arms. It tried to move its legs and again, absolutely nothing was found there. It tried to move its head and found that it didn't even have a head. Yet it did have a form, it could physically feel the surroundings that it was in, and it eyes, it could clearly see the place it was in, wherever that might have been.

The eternal night sky of Hueco Mundo shined while the creature attempted to move again, feeling the sandy dunes amongst its body. "Who are you?" A voice suddenly rang out from the creature, other than its own thought and voice. Slightly afraid, the thing twitched and said feebly. "What…who else is there? What is your name?"

"I am…" Whoever said it stopped as if it didn't even know the answer to that question. When the other thing thought about it as well, it also felt forgetful. They both thought, thinking of what they were called or what they were really.

"I…" The other one said, "…was someone…"

"…Neiro…" The other repeated…as if in having an epiphany."

"…Neiro. You are…Neiro. But not anymore." The deep voice said within the mass, somewhat crestfallen as well. "You are not Neiro anymore and I am not…me anymore."

The creature moved its body, discovering that it was all just a bit of mass, so infinitesimally small that even the weakest creature could kill it by accidently stepping on it. It had no form, just writhing mass that felt so weak and defenseless. Squirming around on the desert plain, the creature went stiff as it felt the heavy footsteps of another creature. Fearing for itself, it buried itself into the sandy dunes, reaming stationary until the threat passed. Rising back up, the thing looked carefully around and began to move, using its strange body to pull itself around.

Hungry.

After getting over its surroundings and form, the thing discovered that it had an insatiable appetite. An appetite that needed to be filled as soon as possible. But what could it possibly eat out here? There was nothing around here, and even if there was, it would be too big right? It wanted something. It was everything, it had to have everything. Yet it did not have everything, it hardly had anything. Continuing on its strange little world, it once again buried itself in the ground when it heard something going by.

Poking out of the sand, it noticed though larger than itself, a small lizard with a strange ornate mask on its face. Perhaps it was small enough to eat, if it could over power it. Staying within the sands, the creature waited for the lizard to come by and when it did, it pounced. Wrapping its body around the thriving hollow, the creature began to devour it from the outside in, converting its reistu to its own body as if it done so naturally all along. It felt stronger now, better, the meal had been something it had definitely needed.

But it was still hungry.

* * *

Wallowing in the sand, it searched for more of these smaller hollows and whenever it could find one, it ate it. It ate and gained and spread, its body growing and maturing after each small hollow it ate. Time passed and where the creature was once the size of a small rodent, it was now the size of large dog, its body a swarming mass of tentacles. Stronger, faster, it began to hunt down other much larger hollows. Often staying in the dark, hidden in the sand, it would sneak upon its victims and take them down by surprise. It even managed to take down a few adjuchas in the process. But it never went past the first state, no matter how much it ate. It grew stronger, stronger than most hollows, but it always remained in the very stage. It was always a Gillian.

Then on one particular day, after devouring the 27th hollow of the day, it ran into a distinctive Hollow. This time there was no waiting, it had been discovered by the hollow this time but as it had grown and matured after eating hundreds of other hollows, it no longer felt afraid. "It's too bad for you…but I'm going to eat you." The hollow said to the creature. If it had a true head, it would've given the hollow a quizzical look, as if it amused by what it heard."

"You are…"

"…going to eat me?"

The hollow stopped, confused when it heard two separate voices.

Chuckling the creature spreads out its tentacles and struck out as the hollow jumped into the air and landed a few meters away. "A fast one, you seem a bit different from the other hollows I've eaten." The creature said plainly, sending out another tentacle that was again avoided. Then suddenly a tentacle in the ground shot forth and grabbed the hollow, holding it up. "Guh! What the, let me go!" The hollow roared.

"Let you go? Sorry, today just isn't your day…I'm afraid I'm going to have to eat you…"

"Eh? No! Wait! Wait! Wait!"

And the hollow vanished within the creature's body absorbed.

The creature definitely noticed something was unnatural with this hollow and its body began to change once again. Groaning, hissing and stretching, it began to take own a more humanoid shape. In the end, the hollow resembled something that held the outline of man, but none of the form. It was like a person who was melting and falling apart, black holes where the eyes would be yet capable of seeing everything. It took a moment for the hollow to get its body understood but once it did, it then went to its mind.

"How amusing…what a strange ability you have…hollow." The deep voice spoke.

"There's more to it…" The high pitched voice answered.

It was true, as they looked into the creature's body, devouring its reistu, it got a startling discovering. Of course having never met one before they were first curious at what they had found. Hollow reitsu was very unique, but this was something new. Digging into the new mental abstract of the reistu, the creature plunged itself into the new finding. Startled, it learned a vast new world outside of both the real world and the world of Hueco Mundo.

A place called Soul society, where the Shinigami's resided. They got a peek into the memories, a new world of friendship and heart. Tsk, friendship? The only thing that matter was power. The heart? What was this heart? It must have been a foolish human notion, which apparently resided in Shinigami's as well. However, the reistu's distinctive power and internal skills did tweak the hollow's interest.

"So this is who you are…" The deep voice mumbled.

"…Shinigami Kaine Shiba…" The high pitched voice concluded. But as they tried to take the form of the body, whether by genetics or some other problem, they could only become a humanoid mass, hardly resembling any real person. However, they did gain the vast knowledge and rather irksome memories of the Shinigami.

* * *

The hollow continued to eat, always wanting and never giving in return. Tales of hollow eater began to surface throughout Hueco Mundo. A creature that could eat hundreds of hollows in but a single day. It was a tale that caught the attention of a certain man.

Slithering on the dunes, the hollow felt the presence of a powerful reistu, one that would be great to eat. However it didn't feel like a hollow and with the vast memory that was stored in Kaine's reistu, the hollow knew who was coming before he even arrived.

"Hello, hollow."

"Hello…Aizen Sosuke." The hollow answered back, almost plainly. The man, wearing the typical shinigami uniform and rimmed glasses looked slightly surprised but instantly put on contented face. "I'm surprised, I don't remember seeing you before. How do you know my name?"

"…I do not know you." The hollow answered plainly. "…But Kaine Shiba does. You were the Lieutenant. of Shinji Hirako. You are now the captain of the 5th division. I don't know what you are doing here though, in the world of Hueco Mundo."

"I am here seeking comrades. An army of the 10 most powerful hollows. I came, seeking adjuchas and vasto lords, but you are an interesting case. Even though you are a Gillian, you have an abnormally powerful reistu. Why?"

"…Absorbing hundreds of hundreds of hollows." The creature murmured.

"I see. What do you say, will you join me? I can offer you power, position, escape from all the pain in the world."

At the sound of this, the hollow's interest was instantly tweaked. "I only asked, that you serve under me, and I will offer you a place, on one of the thrones of Heaven. I can have you become, an arrancar."

"Arrancar?"

"A being, above both hollow and shinigami. Here…" And pulling from his Shinigami robes, a small round object. "The Hogyoku…or rather to say a prototype. If you are willing to come with me, I can offer you all of what I said."

Alone and needy, the hollow listened intently to Aizen's offer.

"You can promise…a world without pain?" The high pitched voice asked.

"Indeed." The Shinigami said with a smile.

"…Fine then, I accept."

"Good…come with me." Aizen answered, walking away while the hollow mass followed him. A slithering humanoid mass with the memories of over 10,000 hollows and the memories of a certain shinigami. They came upon a small area, hardly any different from the one where they were at. The Shinigami said something, holding the so called Hogyoku in his hands before calling the hollow over. The same contented smile on his face, almost benevolent, Aizen then said, "Well let's get this done." He didn't bother telling the hollow that he was using a prototype and when done on Shinigami, there had been disastrous results. The hollow waited, as if thinking it over but when its greed got the better of it, it came up to Aizen.

In flash of light and a change of body, the hollow squirmed and shook, a feeling that was hard to interpret. "Interesting…" Aizen mumbled, watching the transformation, seeing the form take shape. The body became more distinct but the head seemed to be struggling to take shape. The shinigami could clearly see what appeared to be two bumps emerging but at the same time if it continued, the entire thing would fall apart. He would have let it happened, study the results by using the prototype of the Hogyoku. The body had now taken full shape and as if he held one the entire time, he pulled out a large cylindrical object, mostly used to hold the contents of the creature when it died. In truth he didn't expect it to survive. But as he went to the creature, watching it squirm, he watched as the skin upon the hollow wrapped around the tube, hissing and filling it with some sort of strange liquid. The flesh fused with the glass, connecting it like a head before the entire tube was obscured in a red liquid.

Bemused, Aizen looked as the creature stood, slightly hunched with the most unique looking head of any arrancar. A tube filled with the strange liquid that bordered on blood and floating in it, two skull like heads.

"Here." Aizen said simply, throwing the hollow a white outfit as it put it on simply. Looking upon itself, the hollow gazed at its body in wonder.

"What is your name…comrade?"

The hollow paused, looking at himself as the heads turned to one another before saying in unison.

"Aaroneiro Arurerrie…"

And the first espada was born. Then with a little twitch of the glass, skin spread around it until the face of a certain shinigami appeared. "I thought I sensed a familiar reistu…" Aizen mumbled. "Yes, he was part of the hollow I hate." Kaine Shiba said holding out his hand.

"Storm through the seas…and burn through the heavens…Nejibana." Instantly a long ornate trident appeared, holding it delicately with his hand. "Hm…interesting." Aaroneiro mumbled. "What shall I do for you…Aizen-sama."

And thus, the first Espada was born.

* * *

Author's notes: A few little tidbits. To kind of give a little originality, I had it that instead of being created by the complete Hogyoku, Aaroneiro would created by a prototype. Thus helping to explain his rather...unique appearance. Take it as you will.

R&R


	3. Insanity

Author's Notes: The order of which the Espada will become part of Aizen's army:

Aaroneiro Arurerrie

Ulquiorra Shiffer

Neliel Tu Odervanshanks

Tia Haribel

Barragan Luisenbarn

Yammy Riyalgo

Nnoitora Jiruga

Grimmjow Jaggerjack

Zommari Leroux

Szayel Aporro Granz

Coyote Starrk

The Ex-Espada go in between Aaroneiro and Ulquiorra, more than likely they won't place much of a part in the stories, but I'm just putting it in for writer's sakes. They along with Aaroneiro will be considered the first Generation Espada.

Ulquiorra through Yammy Riyalgo will be considered the Second Generation Espada

Nnoitora through Starrk will be considered the Third/last generation Espada.

* * *

**Chapter 3: Insanity**

"_I cannot possibly die, I will always survive. Like the phoenix I rise from the ashes, truly a perfect being!"_

_-Szayel Aporro Granz_

_

* * *

_

"Eh? What an interesting find you have there, let me take a closer look." Pushing the short rimmed spectacles closer up his, the pink haired man leaned in closer of the table, peering closely at the new specimen the doctor had brought in. Taking out a few utensils, including a suture knife, he began to carefully cut around the deceased organism's flesh.

"Oh! What is this? How fascinating where on earth did you find such a specimen?" He asked gleefully, poking it around it like a small child would with a new toy. He seemed oddly happy and if somewhat quite obsessed with the organism.

"That's right, a new species discovered just off the coastal waters. It's just as you said, a new find of an organism, once thought extinct." The assistant said smiling.

Folding his hands, the pink haired man walked around the table, looking around at the animal with a glint of hysteria in his eyes. "Do you think that if we bring this find to the scientific community, it'll lead to breakthrough discovery?"

"I believe it will."

Clapping his hands joyfully, the scientist laughed. "Wonderful! I do thank you for helping me out, Dorehmukus. Ah, look at the time; I swear it goes by so fast when advances are being made in the name of science. I'm heading home, even great intellects like myself need to rest. Make sure you put the specimen in the freezing chamber, we'll continue the experiment in the morning."

"Yes, Professor Granz." Dorehmukus said coolly, nodding his bald head and putting away his lab coat, left. Staying in the lab, as if to just breathe in the smell of anesthetics and chemicals that were currently wafting through the lab, a gleam of something shone upon the rims of Szayel Aporro Granz's glasses. It went by so quickly that it would've been virtually impossible to see, but it was certainly there. It was the gleam of something that seemed, rather off putting. It made his features erratic. A blind sort of look that was devoid of anything and everything, just a glare of desires that went past normality. Yet it wasn't the look that was the most frightening part, it was the thought on the matter. It was the idea of what would happen to that look, if something went wrong.

Intellectual extraordinaire Szayel Aporro Granz was the leading scientist of the community he lived in. Having made several breakthroughs in the medical field, he was a man who practically breathed the air of science. Almost always wearing a white lab coat, usually splotched with the various chemicals he was working with, Szayel usually never left the confinements of his lab. People would eve joke that, every time the pink haired man had to leave his lab, he'd cry all night at his house wanting to go back. At any case he was always the first to arrive at the lab and he was always the last to leave it

* * *

Living on the outskirts of town, Szayel walked up to the single house, pulled out the keys and stepped inside before moaning loudly. Szyael was a clean freak, everything had to be perfect, and everything had to be in order. Order was important and without it, there was nothing but chaos. Clean cut uniform, hair washed, glasses washed. Szyael lived free of the mundane things such as filth or disorder. There was no disorder in the name of science after all, so he believed. Unfortunately his older brother didn't hold the same opinion as himself.

"Ahhhhhh, back from the kinky little lab little bro?" Ilforte mumbled after a long yawn, sprawled out on his best with food and drinks littered around him. Shaking his head disappointingly, Szayel made his way around the rubble of litter and got into his bed. He had, much to his own chagrin, allowed his brother to say in his house as rent and he had instantly regretted it. Ignoring his lack of cleanliness, he and his brothers couldn't have been more of an opposite. Where he, Szayel was an incredibly gifted intellect, his brother Ilforte Granz was…well distinctively not. Blonde hair sprawled out around his face, kicked back attitude and a meager look on the ways of science.

"Shit! Pass me a drink bro!" Ilforte yelled obscenely. Moaning and wishing he hadn't come home, the scientist reluctantly passed the drink and listened disheartened as his brother gulped it down and gave one loud disgusting belch. "Can't you have a little integrity Ilforte?" Szayel mumbled, folding his arms behind his head but not going to sleep. In an hour his brother would finally collapse from the massive sugar intake and then all would be quiet. At the very least he had the generosity not to have his punk of a friend Di Roy over, otherwise it would've been all but impossible to get to sleep.

But, even the annoyance of his older brother couldn't rid himself of the vast joy that he felt with his new scientific breakthrough. Szayel Aporro Granz, a name that would be known forever more.

* * *

Waking up to the distinctive sound of his brother's ungodly noise from the kitchen, Szayel stretched and got up. He would get something to eat at the university, he didn't even want to take a single step into their kitchen. In fact it would be quite a deal if Szayel even got something to eat, because honestly the last thing on his mind was food. What he desired most, as he headed out of the house, twiddling his fingers eagerly, was experimenting on the new specimen. After a few more tests to truly authenticate the organism, something he was positive would be true anyways, he would present his findings to the scientific community.

Arriving at the university, he stepped into the lab as usual the first one there and went to the second floor to get his equipment and then strolled off to get the specimen. "How wonderful…how wonderful…" he whispered, eyes wide to the point of ecstasy. It was rather frightening in a sense and most of his colleagues took note of it. Whether or not Szayel Aporro Granz knew it himself, but he had strange way of acting over the top with his studies. It was a strange look in his eyes, a glint of a thing one might call madness.

Opening up the tray, he put the organism down, marveling at it and the thought of what it would give him. Working on it was like going into a high, just being in his element was the greatest thing in the world for the scientist. He got out the utensils and was just beginning to work on the specimen when something unexpected and horribly unsettling happened. It first started with the ringing of the small cell phone in his pocket which then escalated into full blown panic.

"What do you mean…already…impossible…no…" Mumbling incoherently after that, the phone dropped and shattered into three separate pieces. He had just gotten word from his assistant that their find was a failure and that it had already been discovered. Now for a usual person, while this would've been disheartening, they would've gotten over it, but for Szayel it was much different. The pink haired man, pushing his glasses up his sweaty nose began to breathe even heavier. He pushed his gloved fingers through his hair and began to breath heavily, sweat dripping from his face in small droplets around his feet.

Szayel had always had this problem, when things didn't go as plan he would began to hyperventilate and his mind would go into overdrive. It was mental disease that few noticed but right now it was definitely beginning to show.

It didn't help later on that due to budget cuts he had quit his job as the head scientist of the university.

* * *

Now alone in this god forsaken world with nothing to do, his mental capacity began to decrease more and more. There was but one thing that Szayel enjoyed and that was in the world of experimentation. Testing and testing and checking and finding the results of the greatest discoveries of all. People didn't noticed that Szayel always got too into his work, his eyes glossed over as if on a drug and in some points would even start drooling during his work. At first it started out simply, whenever something didn't go as plan he would just shrug it off but not anymore. With each failure his mind slowly began to collapse until now…it finally came to a climax…a climax of one night.

Failure to realize his own metal fallacy, the cold silver knife turned between his finger and thumb, gleaming horribly. The night sky was silent and creepy and with the mad glint in his eyes, he slowly went over to the sleeping body of his brother. "Oh…what a splendid scene, testing and checking…" he muttered, smiling as he dug the knife into the scalp of Ilforte's head and began to cut. The warm stench of blood filled his nose but it didn't stop him from continuing to cut, until…while his brother still breathed…he took the top half of his head off. Careful planning, careful deduction, not a moments of hesitation, glee filled his heart.

"…Awww…your brain…oh…" He whispered, taking a fork and poking on a certain parts, watching with happiness as his brother's body twitched and jerked. But then…a deep anger began to filled his mind and Szayel with one single strike, plunged the knife deep into the recesses of his brother's mind. "You…stupid…asshole…" He growled, twisting the dagger out so that it was dripping a new with fresh blood and brain matter. "You think…that you can just live like that…dirty and filthy? Seriously…people like you…are just a mistake on the good scientific world…that I am a part of…

Heh…Haha…Hahaha…ha…ha…ha…"

Widening his eyes, despite himself he began putting his own fingers into Ilforte's brain, feeling the mesh of matter between his fingers and relishing in the feeling. As far as he was concerned, this was merely brain surgery. Ilforte was being his usual stupid self and he was just correcting a problem that was all.

"Heh…heh…heh…haa…haha…kehaha…" But even the soft insane laughter couldn't quell the sudden thirst of mental instability.

Suddenly…he wanted more!

The disease inside of his mind was something that most doctors would've have questioned as extremely danger in the least bad scenario, and physically impossible at the worst can scenario. It wasn't the fact that his mental state was getting worse, far from it in fact. Szayel Aporro Granz was an incredibly gifted and intelligent man who suffered from a strange disease that would later be called…

M.V.S

Mental Vastness Syndrome.

The disease caused Szayel's mental awareness to fluctuate out of control, often leading not to a physical damage to the brain, but a mental damage to the mind. In short, Szayel was incapable of rationally thinking due to overwhelming processes that his brain would undergo without his volition. Therefore, everything had to go exactly as plan or otherwise he'd go into deep bouts of conceptual unawareness, leading him to do things that in most cases he had no control over.

It would also be…his undoing in life.

* * *

Strolling with his hand still dripping in the sickly color of his brother's blood, a white smirk representative of a true mad scientist, the once great Professor Granz became a dark icon of intellectual fear. He wanted to experiment, be damned if he was going to give up on his dreams.

"Yes…yes…yes…so delicious sweet the body feels as it's being splintered open…" He thought. It wasn't the first time had gone into a bout of madness like this, though it was the first time he had actually murdered. The first time the M.V.S disease had hit him he had been 8 years old in school.

It was simple occasion, his prized science fair project didn't win first place but it did get second place. Yet, Young Szayel went into a fit that had nothing to do with being in second place it was just that his mind began to rupture without his knowing. But this would only be a minor offense as the disease ate away at his thoughts until he at last because what he was now.

A walking personification of insanity.

Assistant Dokehmukus was heading back home when his senses began tinkling like an animal in danger. Whether it was the dark night and the loneliness that made him anxious he wasn't sure but he did know that something was wrong.

"…You…made…this…happen…"

Unable to hear the whisper from behind, Dokehmukus continued to walk away, stopped when he heard a loud snap of something, turned and when he saw nothing he turned…

And felt a hand against his face.

Desperately trying to push his assailant out of the way, when a brief shine of light his face, he gasped. "P-Professor Granz! What are you doing!" With a single rough push he managed to Szayel off of him, sweating as he saw the raised knife, dripping with fresh blood.

"Oh God man what happened to you?"'

"Nothing happened…what's wrong with you? I'm just doing some…experimentation." Then he rushed at him, knife raised to doing his wicked action Dokehmukus turned tail and ran. How his skin began to shiver in an uncontrollable fashion, pain and horror filling his mind as he ran to the closest place there was, a small chemical factory.

He hardly had time to slam the door closed when it opened right back up, the dark silhouette of the pink haired man coming at him. The first stab hit him in the arm and slid up, spewing the dark steel floor with red. "Why are you acting up…specimen…I'm just doing my work!"

"You're insane Granz! What the hell is wrong with you!"

"Keh! Keh! Keh! Ha! Ha! Ha! Nothing is wrong man…it's merely experimentation."

Clearly there was just no reasoning with him, so Dokehmukus did the only reasonable thing he could do. He ran. Turning a corner he came across the second floor of a vast rooms, the roaring of the machines echoing loudly in his ears.

*STAB!* A direct blow to his back, forcing him on his knees, and causing the assistant to throb with uncontrollable spams. Fighting for his very life against a person he had once though a friend, he watched as his back hit the railings and then, as Szayel charged with the insane grin of his, he moved, pushed and watched as Szayel from the height.

* * *

The term "life flashing before your eyes", would have been a perfect point to be made for Szayel at that point. His entire life, greatness and even his wrong doings spread throughout his mind before he thought to himself, "Why?"

Right before he landed in a cylindrical tube. A thought of murder outside of his mind, all that the scientist wanted to do was to get out, unable to even realize how he had gotten in such a place before. Looking up, he saw his assistant and desperately reached up. "D-Dokehmukus!" But his assistant, reasonably frightened only ran away, leaving Szayel alone.

The sound of something perked his ears and when Szayel looked up, to see a vat of something hanging above him from a cauldron, his eyes instantly glazed over. Screaming a shrill cry, he felt the mixture drop against his face, burning his eyes, nose and mouth before not only he was submerged in the entire liquid, floating there.

…and burning.

His entire skin flayed away, he could his bones poking out of his melted flesh right before the liquids in his eyes spewed out and left him blind. In the dark, he felt so miserable and pained that he just wanted it to end.

"How long…" he thought, unable to feel his lower body anymore. "…Must I endure this pain?

Please…end it.

End it now…

Hurry…

Hurry…

Hurry…

Dear God release me from this pain!"

The last thing he felt, was the stinging sensation as his mind was on fire before all things went blank. The entire flesh melted away, leaving only the disgruntled bones of a mad man. Ironically enough the last thing that broke apart, was the pair of spectacles on the man's eyes.

* * *

Like all those who came to Hueco Mundo, Szayel Aporro Granz was confused and startled at where he was at. The sandy dunes displaying nothing but a world of eternal darkness with the crescent moon above. It took him a while to understand why exactly he was there and thought back to the last thing he remembered. That happened to be heading to the university and after that, it was rather fuzzy. Sighing deeply he decided instead to look at himself, and was most visibly startled.

"Wh-what the…hell?" He mumbled, eyes widening as he saw what appeared to be bones on his body. No, they weren't on his body, they were his body. His bony hand reached across his shoulders, feeling the strange tendril that was emerging from it. Strange bubs grew from specific points of the tendrils, pulsating and shaking like some sort of sick bulbous ball.

"What…have I…become…" Szayel whispered aloud, trying to think hard of what had happened.

And then, like a bomb is exploded in his head.

All that had happened, why it had happened, how it had happened and the conclusion that had ended with his painfully slow death. So miserable he had felt, but unable to do anything but just take the pain, unable to scream, or black out until the very end. Suddenly, the hollow became angry with his past. "I…was just doing my job…" He articulated coldly, instinctively pushing the horned rimmed bones up his face as if they truly were a pair of glasses. "…Those fools…don't understand a single thing about experimentation or the things of science. My idiotic brother…that foolish assistant of mine…none of them understand."

Breathing harshly, the hollow then thought of something new, he was hungry but it wasn't earthly food that he was interested in.

Szayel got the firsthand experience with his new abilities 4 hours later when he came upon a hollow. It didn't take him long to know what he was and how he had gotten here. Whether by instinct or plain knowledge given by others, hollows soon learned their place in the world, at least those who still kept their sanity. There was no reason to explain why he wanted to eat that other hollow; he just knew that he had to. Unfortunately the small adjuchas decided to put up a fight instead.

One of the orbs slapped down upon the hollow, feeling it twist and turn until plopping out. Unharmed, the hollow was understandably confused while Szayel looked at his own pulsating orb with the same look of confusion. Deciding to concentrate, he felt something push out of the orb and what would pop out but a strange egg with the exact same hollow markings as the creature he just tried to eat.

Suddenly, the thoughts of eating the hollow…became a distant memory.

"What…is…that…?" The adjuchas muttered at Szayel in a deep graveling voice.

The creature would find the answer to that soon enough. Seeing a small line wrapped around the egg, Szayel popped it open and dug inside, his hollow mind working, realizing his powers as a natural instinct, the intelligent hollow decided to…experiment.

5 minutes later…

The hollow, who Szayel was going to eat instantly suddenly found his ribs and other eternal organs crushed, before his spinal cord was finally severed, leaving it dead, finally allowing after the moment of torture for Szayel to eat it. It was delicious but not because of the food, because of the vast knowledge he had learned about it and himself. Perhaps, there were more of these creatures out there in this nightly world of the hollows, and more importantly, maybe he could satiate his desires for more experimentation.

The hollow, known as Szayel Aporro Granz ate like any other hollows but he also kept a certain intelligence about himself. He found the glory of the world he was in, to create, destroy and most importantly experiment on anything and everything. In fact his knowledge of Hueco Mundo and hollows was surpassed only by some of the much older hollows and even then as time passed, Szayel would soon know more.

Then one day, he met…a certain man.

* * *

"Hello…what is your name hollow?" The man asked as Szayel played with his new toy, a hollow he had recently killed and was currently testing its vital organs for anything unique. Looking behind him, the hollow narrowed his eyes. "You aren't a hollow…what are you...a human…or perhaps a Shinigami."

"I guess you could say that I am both, I am also he who will stand in Heaven. I am Aizen Sosuke." The man replied with a soft smile, the winds of Hueco Mundo blowing his white coat around lazily. "I am searching for powerful hollows, and I noticed you and your actions. What is your name, and what are you doing?"

"…Hm…" Szayel contemplated Aizen for a moment before speaking. "Szayel. Szayel Aporro Granz. I'm just seeing what makes this hollow tick, that's all." He replied with a sinister smile.

"Interesting. You have a keen intellect that would be great for me."

"Espada?" Szayel asked confused.

"Perhaps you have heard, of the great castle of Las Noches. I and group of powerful hollows reside there. I am offering you not only a place in my kingdom but also as one of the elite group of hollows."

"Really…and what do I get out of it?"

Aizen smiled and continued, raising his hand as if giving grand speech. "I can offer you vast numbers of specimen to work on. An endless supply of experimentation for your own delight."

A smile crept on Szayel's bony face. "That sounds…very interesting. Hahahahahaha! Very well then…Aizen Sosuke you have yourself a deal!"

"Great, now…allow me to tear you away from this ridiculous two dimensional world." Aizen spoke, bringing out a small black orb. The hollow again narrowed his eyes, demanding what it was and what Aizen was planning on doing.

"Do not worry, this is the Hogyoku, the Will of Wishes. You certainly can't expect to be just a mere hollow, the espada are an elite group of transformed beings…known as the arrancar. Relax, this won't hurt at all…"

Still unsure but at the same time seeing no reason to fear betrayal, Szayel allowed Aizen to do…whatever it was he needed to do. The white light obscured his vision and then his thoughts and no sooner had it begun then it had ended. Heavy breaths left his body until Szayel looked upon himself, seeing flesh for the first time. "Incredible…" He whispered, holding his sword which held his core, the ornate hilt glistening. "…This is incredible…" Before he suddenly fell to his knees again the smirking shinigami.

"I do thank you…Aizen-Sama…"

"Good, let's go. Szayel Aporro Granz…oh…" Aizen stopped, thought for a moment and then asked, "Would you happen to be related to Ilforte Granz?"

"Yes…" Szayel answered back, "Why?"

"He is currently one of the fraccions of Grimmjow Jaggerjack."

"Fraccion?" Szayel asked.

"Espada are allowed to control lesser hollows as their underlings." Aizen commented, causing the pink haired man to smile. "So that means I outrank that bastard. Good, along with killing him I can rub that in his smug face."

And so he left with the shinigami.

* * *

Author's Note: Finally finished this one. Sorry for the delay but unfortunately Szayel wasn't exactly my favorite of the Espada (Actually my second least favorite after Zommari) I had a hard time really putting a story down for him and honestly I'm just glad I finished. Now I know that during the past Szayel wasn't a member of the Espada nor was it explained when and how he became one. For the sake of the story we'll say Szayel was a member, got demoted then got promoted again at some other point.

Now of course our next Espada is Zommari Leroux whom I have mentioned is my absolute least favorite Espada. Therefore, considering how long it took me to finish this one, it may be a while before I get the next chapter done. Although I admit I actually have a slight idea of what to do with Zommari's past then I did with Szayel. At any point...

R&R


	4. Intoxication

**Chapter 4: Intoxication**

"_Your righteous arrogance affronts me, you shall soon learn your place."_

_-Zommari Leroux_

* * *

They stood loyally around, upon their knees with their heads bowed, eyes closed and bodies stiff. A line of men, women and even children in the same position behind a single small fire which above stood a tall man holding a black book. He wore a large black coat the drooped over his shoulders and down his feet, his black hair and beard swaying in the calm wind.

"Listen…to the great words of our savior..." He spoke in a low monotonous voice yet somehow it kept them all captivated. "Remember to pray to our savior, the all-powerful Lord of Nights, whom we humbly serve…"

A pause in his speech and a series of strange chants that came from the group, low mumbles of an unknown language sifting through the nightly air. Of this group, a specifically low voice was profoundly clear and loud. Set deep in prayer, eyes close, with piercings on a specific parts of his bodies including an array of jewels that traveled down the base of his bald head to the back of his neck. Each of them prayed but none prayed harder to the Lord of Night then Zommari Leroux.

While not the eldest of the group of people in the area, he was by far the most faithful to the Religion of Night. A religion that celebrated the forthcoming of their savior, a god of the moon and stars, not a creator but a bringer of greatness to those whose faith in it would remain strong. Born into this world of religion and faith, Zommari obligated himself as one of the shaman who people could go to for spiritual guidance. Yet, despite this even he knelt down with the others to follows the words of another man, listening intently to the words of faith that came from his lips. As long as his faith was clear and strong, there was no fear or hesitation that would ever come from him.

"And thus…we patiently await your arrival O Lord of Nights, and set upon on our souls for you to shift and guide us in the perfect direction. _Keiu!"_

"_Keiu!" _The group repeated, arising from their seats and leaving for their homes, wives and children. Zommari the last one standing walked over to the priest and said, "Those were great words Priest Kumu, and already I feel the wonders of our savior flowing through my flesh on this night. I feel that I was almost close to seeing our god in his rightful glory." The priest nodded with a broad smile, grasping the man on the shoulder with his slightly wrinkled hands. "It is not you who should praise me but I who should praise you and our Great One. You who have stood as the chief stone for our faith, never faltering no matter what. The people of our place look at you with envy eyes and spiritual hope, and I too gaze upon you and think...

…Who is this great man, who's faith is so strong and clear? Who is this amazing man, who prays and never gives up? It is you my friend, brother and spiritual believer, Zommari Leroux. Truth be told I feel as if I am insulting you just by being in your presense."

"No…" Zommari said quietly. "Why would you say such a thing like that Priest Kumu."

The priest smiled, laughed and turned red in the face as if embarrassed. "Please, look at yourself, you are the most faithful of our people and you spread this faith to others. I am only a messenger but you are a true bringer of our faith. Our people look at you as a true guide and you know it."

Sighing deeply, the man turned around. "You speak as if I am greater, but in truth we are all equals in front of the Lord of Night." Upon these words the priest smiled even more deeply than before. "Do not take offense to my words Zommari, but I believe your arrogance is arrogant."

"Oh…what do you mean by that?" The shaman asked with a raised brow.

"You speak to me as if you think yourself lower than you truly are when in fact we owe you a lot for bringing us this close to our faith. For that we truly do thank you."

"I hope it isn't too arrogant to say that your thanks are not needed and I am only doing what the Lord of Night has asked."

* * *

Zommari was born in a small village as a part of an even great community in the southern hemisphere. His people from someone of a higher up look would've seen it as a third world country. In fact, on contraire this was the opposite of what Zommari lived. He lived in a community which merely did not partake in advanced worldly affairs such as technology. This did not mean however that they were ignorant of such matters. Quite the opposite, the community in which he lived was well known for their medical practice which had over the years sponsored a wide array of both natural and scientific medicines used throughout the world.

But the most prominent attribute of his people was their belief in a God of Night, ruler of the stars and moon. From his very birth, Zommari was brought in and captivated by this wonderful religion that offered salvation to anyone regardless of whether they believed in it or not. For Zommari, his faith in his god was of the upmost importance. Even as a child, in school and outside he knew that he wanted to be a person who could tell the teachings of the Lord of Night to everyone. He of course became a shaman, a spiritual healer and his name became one of great respect throughout his community. Yet he always stepped down, kept his head low and never arrogantly looked over the heads of others. To look into the eyes of others equally is what he had always preached.

Unfortunately, like most religions there is always the dark side hidden beyond the glory.

* * *

"Now you know that you must be strong at this time…" Zommari muttered with a small smile, the young woman shaking harshly, trying to calm herself down as she walked in a line with three other priests and Zommari from behind. "Be strong woman and have faith in the Lord of Night, for this is a great day for you."

"I-I know…but I'm f-frightened…" She whispered.

"Do not be scared, this is but the great step of our Great One, you must be strong in this time."

Nodding once the woman was carried over to a small block of wood where she stood, shaking but also sternly proud while one of the priest came over to her.

"Listen well, your faith is strong and so must be your heart. Stand firm, back erect and eyes concern with nothing as there is nothing to be concerned with. Breathe once; take in the freshness of all worldly things and foretell your own future. Be strong! Be strong! Be strong of the Amor of our Great One!"

"Kyaagh!" Reflexively spitting up blood, the woman felt the cold dagger drive into her bosom before he knees gave way and she slumped down against the piece of wood while Zommari walked over to her. "That's right, strength in the Lord of Night who will guide you along the right path…"

"Y-yes…" She mumbled softly, eyes dimming. "…I…under…stand…"

As her hand dropped mundanely to the floor, Zommari offered her the Spiritual Prayer of Leaving before the other priests collected her body to finish up the ritual.

* * *

Can it be called murder when the person who is being stabbed agrees and wants it? Can it be called co-suicide when the person dying is not unhappy or unwelcomed? Can it be anything but faith which, despite the bloodshed is somehow filled with love and hope? Each year, a single person, man or woman comes up and offers themselves not as a sacrifice but as post for the others. By dying for the Lord of Night, they believe that they are helping their people out by getting them closer to understanding the Lord of Night. While some would find it barbaric, it is in fact one of the greatest reasons of why their faith is so strong. Someone might call it murder, they call it redemption.

* * *

A hollow is born by the overwhelming grief that they feel when they die, unable to pass on rightfully; they suffer under their wretchedness and become monsters. In turn, their hearts which embodies their very essences is destroyed, not physically but spiritually. The keystone holder of a person's will is shattered, torn and ultimate spat upon though never truly destroyed. However this broken heart is perhaps even more dangerous than having no heart at all, for with no heart there is nothing. The hollows however, have a broken putrid heart that stinks of vile unhappiness.

Hollowfication is not pitying or discriminative. All those who suffer under their own disgust, for whatever that reason is, are susceptible to hollowfication.

Nobody is immune to it.

* * *

The passing month went by without delay or problems, the rain showers went on by, the flowers grew and the day to day life of Zommari Leroux went by like the ticking clock. He came with guidance for his people, explaining the greatness of the Lord of Night and they were pleased. These sacrifices were thought of as the greatest connection to their savior and to be a sacrifice was the ultimate benefit. Every time they walked up to the mountain side, dagger in hand, the large man would sooth the sacrifice; some even went out with a smile. Believe, strong in faith…

That was about to be tested to its final degree.

"Have you heard of it yet?" one of the men asked walking up to the shaman who sat with dignity, eyes closed. Zommari took a deep breath, breaking out of his trance looking over at his comrade. "No, what is going on?" He asked alarmed at the sweat of anxiety ran down the man's face. Something was wrong, clearly very wrong.

"There has been a mass killing by the other people; at least 30 of our men, women and even children have been killed."

"Impossible." The man whispered, hoping his friend would decline what he had said, even as a sick joke. Of course when nothing of the sort happened, Zommari could only pose the single question. "Why?"

"…I don't know." The man muttered. "We know that the other people believe our way of life is wrong, that our sacrifices are barbaric. We understand that our differences separate us, but they've always respected and kept their distance with our beliefs."

"Perhaps…they distance just wasn't enough." Zommari muttered, rising up so that the black shawl around his neck flapped in the calm wind. "Do we have any idea if it was an attack from civilians or of the actual government?"

"I'm not sure; we don't have enough information on that. Our people need your guidance at this time, pray with them and show them that despite what has happened we are not forgotten."

Nodding in agreement, Zommari walked to where the bloodshed had occurred, the other man walking solemnly behind.

"…What…is this…?" He asked aloud, seeing the bodies of his people sprawled out in some sort of bloodbath, the few survivors crying and groaning in the death field. "Listen up…" He said, speaking more loudly then he had spoken before. "I understand…that times have become tough and the great pain you are feeling is overwhelming. But you must not lose faith in…"

"Tha's quite enough tulk…." A voice with a heavy accent sounded, silencing the shaman before a small man came up. Nearly a head shorter than Zommari, he was clearly a completely difference race, religion and nationality of Zommari and his people. "I'm gonna save us a good feve (five) minutes and tell ye to shut up." Narrowing his eyes, the shaman stepped forward, folding his hands in front of him.

"Are you the one…who committed this outrageous genocide?" He asked sternly.

"God do ye know what it means to shut up? It means shut ye trap, that dirt hole mouth of yours! I already heard one of these bastards whine all eh-bout their damn religion. You're god…is nothin'."

"…I…will respect your opinion." Zommari muttered, clearly trying to keep his composure. Which for someone surrounded literally by nothing but death, caused by the mere fact of a difference in belief, it was rather grand that the man could be so calm. "…But this is…absolutely uncalled for and disgustingly abhorrent. Remove yourself and anybody you brought here immediately."

"…Heh…KAH! HA! HA! HA! HA!" The minute man burst out into a spittle of laughter, holding his tiny belly and wiping a small tear drop from his left eye. "Oh tha' is hilarious! Seriously man ye is absolutely hilarious! Perhaps you didn't hear me the firs' time! I told ye to shut up!"

Whoever he was, clearly words were not going to play much help. Unfortunately things were about to get much worse. A strong pressure on his neck and arm and before he knew it, Zommari was grasped from behind and held down. "What is…the meaning of this!" He yelled, seeing his own people, men he had helped pinning him down like some sort of animal. Some of them looked at him with dark glares, others with pity and some even with smiles.

"Wh-what's going on?"

"…Isn't it obvious? Yer done, finished, over! We'll be taking over." The man whispered through a broad smile.

"…I don't understand, what are you all doing?" He yelled, looking at his people with a pleading gaze in his eyes. "Have you all be this miserable? Have you all been this corrupt! Have you all become so arrogant! This is not the teaching of the Lord of Night! Have you no sense of respect!"

"…Let me tell ye something…" Zommari turned his head to the small man as he pointed to the deceased bodies littering the floor. "Look at them, all those dead people. Look at them closely, ye blind idiot. That is your god."

With a suddenly explosion of pain in his body down to the soul that seemed to be ripped apart, Zommari suddenly looked at the blood bath. "Th-th-that…c-can't…be."

"Oh but it is, ye see ye lived a lie, thinking ye had friends and faith on your side Wrong you idiot! Ye have been livin' nothing but a lie! Take a look around ye! This is the true worl' ye live in! This is your god!"

Everything else he could take, he could take the abuse and though harsh he could take seeing the death of his people, friends and family. It might have taken years to get over it but he would have eventually have gotten over it. But when one is struck at their deepest level, when one's own belief that they have held on ever since they were born is shattered, no longer is there a point of understanding.

"Is this truly…your world…Lord of Night?" Zommari muttered, helpless falling to the grassy floor before the bladed knife that was oh so familiar to him came upon his neck. Yet it wasn't the wretched steel carving against his artery that caused his very soul to break apart, it was his belief that was obliterated on the spot. "Is this truly…what you are…Lord of Night? Is this truly…the way it really is? Lost…

I…

I…am…

…I…am…lost…"

* * *

Hunger.

It's the first thing that comes to his mind when he wakes up later on in Hueco Mundo, an insatiable appetite that went beyond flesh. He felt terrible, wicked and alone in this strange world and yet at the same time he cared nothing for either. He just wanted to eat…and fill in that horrid little black spot in his heart. He didn't even know what he was or the monster he had become, he didn't know what he was eating or the creatures around him. He could hardly even remember his own name and besides, was there any other point to remember it?

For months, perhaps even years, time meant no difference in Hueco Mundo, Zommari roamed, just another hollow in the world of pain, suffering and misunderstanding. Slowly but certainly he begins to attain his new prowess, during a skirmish with one of his species he discovered the distinct ability to control his foe. For some reason it reminded him of his love for his faith, to take control of his life and control his own destiny. It reminded him of the love he felt for his faith and then the trembling agony of everything falling apart.

God?

Lord of Night?

How ridiculous. There was only the "amor" of his own volition, he was in control, he his own god. No, he wasn't a god, or a man, or even a hollow. He was dead on the inside, outside and might've stood in the lone sand forever as if to commit suicide by starvation. Until on the 13th day, he met with a most peculiar man.

"I've been watching you for a while hollow. What is your name?" Zommari didn't bother looking up, deciding that he was merely hearing the voices of his own pain and that soon after he would be rid of the pain filled tremors that pounded his worthless nonexistent heart. "That ability to control other hollows is a unique ability and your reistu is quite high. How would you like to join me?"

"Why should I join you?" He asked, still not looking up. "What makes you any different from the rest?"

"Interesting. For one I am offering you a great chance, a chance of a great return. Standing here, attempting to die because you are suffering is no way to go. But I will not force you to join me, but if you did you would become one of the members of the Espada. A group of changed hollows who work for me. I offer you this chance.

Die suffering under the winds of Hueco Mundo, or come stand with me in Heaven." Zommari saw out of the corner of his eyes a hand reaching out and when he looked his eyes widened. A man in white, a small smile of his face, haughty and proud standing under the half crescent moon. The Lord of Night? Could it possibly be true?

And for the first time since his death…passion burned through him. He was right, The Lord of Night did exist, there he was, offering salvation.

"Of course! Of course! My name is Zommari Leroux." He said almost intoxicated.

"Excellent, my name is Aizen Sosuke."

* * *

Author's Notes: Finally got this done, sorry for the delay. While I didn't intend it to, if it looks rushed it probably is. I hate this character, least favorite Espada of all. Now luckily we're getting into Espada's 1-6 who are a lot cooler which of course comming first is the ever popular Grimmjow Jaggerjack.

Please R&R


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